


Swelter

by Cheshyr



Series: Sibilance [3]
Category: Mötley Crüe, The Dirt (2019), The Dirt: Confessions of the World's Most Notorious Rock Band Book - Mötley Crüe & Neil Strauss
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:14:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21926524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheshyr/pseuds/Cheshyr
Summary: Tommy wants so bad to be strong for Nikki. So much so he feels the need to hide when he's the one who needs help.(Part of the "Sibilance" series, but can be read alone I think.)
Relationships: Tommy Lee/Nikki Sixx
Series: Sibilance [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1534076
Comments: 2
Kudos: 44





	Swelter

It started with a cough.

A tickle in the back of Tommy’s throat, really, like he had inhaled a bit of dust or something. It wouldn’t go away though, even after multiple attempts to clear his throat and drinking some water. But as annoying as it was, the drummer didn’t think anything of it, distracting himself with booze and music and a beautiful boy in his bed.

He still got a goofy smile on his face whenever he fell into bed with Nikki, even after over four months together. Actually, according to Mick, he pretty much got a goofy smile on his face anytime Nikki walked into the room. But he couldn’t help it- as soon as their relationship was revealed, it was like the floodgates opened. The terror twins had always been affectionate, but now Tommy took every opportunity to kiss Nikki’s hair, and cheeks, and mouth, lacing their fingers together under tables and pulling him onto his lap at every after party. 

Not that Nikki ever complained, laughing and throwing his arms around the drummer and playing with his hair. And when Vince made fake gagging noises at their kisses he simply kissed Tommy harder.

Yeah. Tommy felt more and more head over heels everyday. 

Which was why he was beyond frustrated when he woke up and found that the tickle in his throat had only grown worse. It felt lower, closer to his lungs, and his breath caught in a desperate attempt not to cough. Looking over, he saw Nikki curled next to him, makeup smudged around his eyes and hair a wild mess, breathing softly. Tommy rarely got to see Nikki asleep- the bassist was usually the last to drift off and the first to wake, sleep a constant battleground for the man. So the drummer refused to disturb his boyfriend’s much needed rest for something as stupid as a cough. 

Unfortunately, his body didn’t seem to understand that, and he felt his eyes watering the longer he held it in. Finally, he rolled over as gently as he could away from Nikki and buried his face in his pillow, finally succumbing to the hacking in his lungs. He clutched the pillow around his head, trying to muffle the sounds as much as possible.

“Hmmpf, T-Bone?” Tommy wanted to punch something when he felt the bed shift as Nikki sat up, “You alright, babe?”

It took a minute for the coughing to subside, but when it did, Tommy sat up with a frustrated sigh, “Yeah, just had something in my throat,” he coughed a little to try to clear the raspy sound in his voice, “I’m sorry for waking you,” he said softly.

Nikki smiled sleepily, “No worried, dude. I should be getting up soon anyway, I wanted to work on a couple songs before practice today,” he stretched his arms over his head, and Tommy cursed internally.

“Aw, come on,” he whined, “don’t get up yet,” he wrapped his arms around Nikki’s waist, rolling over to lay on top of him. He smiled mischievously, “Stay a little longer.”

Chuckling, Nikki smirked up at him, “Well… maybe just a _little_ longer.”

Grinning in victory, Tommy leaned down to plant a soft kiss on the bassist’s lips before shifting down to rest his head on his chest, ignoring the ache in his throat and crossing his fingers that Nikki might fall back asleep for a little longer.

Things had been amazing recently, both with the band and their relationship, but the truth was Nikki still struggled a lot and the insomnia was only part of it. He was the strongest person Tommy knew, but Nikki was still healing from a lifetime of pain. There was still fear embedded in his chest like shrapnel, and some days his pain drifted closer to the surface, and some days his demons nipped closer at his heels, and some days his hands wouldn’t stop shaking and fuck, all Tommy wanted was to make it better. Tommy wanted to be strong for him, to take care of him, to support him every chance he got. He had to.

No point in burdening him with a minor cough.

~~~~~~~

The problem was that it apparently was more than just a “minor cough”. As the week wore on, Tommy found it harder and harder to hide the rasping in his lungs. He got exhausted so easily, almost panting by the end of rehearsal, his body ached, and by the end of the week he was suppressing shivers because he just couldn’t seem to get warm. 

Nikki furrowed his brows as he looked at the younger boy, “Hey Tommy, are you… okay?” concern was heavy in his voice, “You’ve been kind of quiet the last few days.”

Tommy wanted to kick himself. He had to get it together, Nikki dealt with enough anxiety without Tommy adding more to it. Mustering up all the energy he could, he plastered on a wide smile, “Oh, I’m totally fine! Just kind of jittery for the show tonight. We’re playing a lot of new stuff, you know, I want to make sure I bring my A-game.”

He hated the thought of lying, but when Nikki relaxed, he figured it was okay. The bassist smiled, throwing an arm around him, “Hey, you’re gonna rock tonight, just like you always do!”

“ _We’re_ going to rock,” Tommy corrected, relieved that he had managed to dodge that bullet. He was fine, and he wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of him taking care of Nikki. 

That’s what he told himself when he snorted a long line of coke and shoved a handful of cough drops into his mouth half an hour before the show that night. Their shows had been consistently selling out, and they had even been discussing how to go about putting out their first album. It was exhilarating, and a little overwhelming sometimes, but Tommy kept that part to himself. Right now, all he could think about was getting through this one show without fucking up. He’d already gotten weird looks from his bandmates for going on stage with his jacket on. Tommy was practically known for pushing the limits of how little clothes he could wear when performing, but he just felt so _cold_. 

When the show started, the lights felt like they were stabbing his eyes, and his arms felt too heavy, and the drugs weren’t helping the exhaustion at all like he’d hoped. He took a deep breath and immediately regretted it when it triggered that fucking persistent cough. Turning to duck his head into his shoulder, he coughed as discreetly as possible while the crowd was distracted by Vince introducing them.

Throughout the show, all Tommy focused on was not fucking up. He barely looked out at the crowd, didn’t even attempt to twirl his drumsticks, and only mouthed the words he was meant to be singing in the background. He concentrated his meager amount of energy into keeping time and hitting the right drums at the right time. Anything extra was out of the question tonight. 

Usually Tommy was practically overheating by the end of a show, sweating more than any of the guys from all the energy he poured into his playing. Even now he could feel his hair plastered to his face, which made no sense to him because he was _still_ shivering. If anything it has only gotten worse as the night progressed, and he had to clench his teeth to keep them from chattering. Every time they got to a particularly loud part of a song he’d take the opportunity to hack and cough over his shoulder.

Simply put, Tommy was miserable. As the band took their final bows and made their way off stage, Tommy tried to think of some sort of excuse to get out of going to any sort of afterparty that wouldn’t be suspicious. He didn’t want to cause a fuss, but fuck, he just wanted to go home. All he wanted was to pass out in Nikki’s arms.

Poor choice of words, apparently.

Halfway down the hall to the dressing room, Tommy had to stop walking, because everything was swaying and spinning around him. It felt like he was on a boat in a storm, stumbling even as he stood still. 

“Tommy?”

The voice sounded far away, muffled and soft. The lights didn’t seem so bright anymore, and the aches and chills were gone as he felt himself drift outside his body, floating gently towards the ceiling even as the floor tilted towards him.

“ _Tommy!_ ”

~~~~~~~

The first time he wakes up, he doesn’t _really_ wake up.

Everything is black. He thinks maybe his eyes are closed. But he aches again, and he’s cold again, and he feels hands gripping him gently to move him. He feels fingers running through his hair and then he’s out again.

~~~~~~~

The second time he wakes up, he manages to open his eyes a little, although it takes him a minute to notice because everything is still dark. Eventually he realizes that it’s dark because he’s staring at the ceiling of Mick’s car. None of the interior lights work in the rusty piece of shit, so nighttime left the vehicle dark as a cave. 

“-what about- …. -ith me?”

“-uck that, I’m- …. -nything!- ….. -ing pay you back, just go!”

Words filter in and out, like breaking through water and then diving back under again and again. He tries to turn his head towards the voices, but a gentle hand rests on his cheek to keep him still. Sluggishly, his eyes drift up so see a dark, blurry outline. He sees red painted lips form the shape of words, but he’s already drifting away again.

~~~~~~~~

The third time he wakes up, it actually feels like waking up. 

Blinking wearily, it takes him a minute to realize that he’s home, laying in bed in their run down apartment. Something soft and cold smooths over his forehead, and while he was still shivering, it felt inexplicably incredible, and he found himself closing his eyes and sighing in relief. 

“You back with me, babe?”

He’ll never quite get used to the soft, gentle tone that Nikki only gets in his voice with Tommy. Opening his eyes again, he turns his head and finds himself looking up at Nikki as the other man continues running the cold washcloth over his cheeks. He smiles warmly, “How are you feeling?”

“M’fine,” he mumbled without thinking, leaning into Nikki’s touch, “How’re you?” he asked habitually.

Nikki just laughed, shaking his head, “Fuck, T-Bone.” 

Frowning, Tommy opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was a deep, raspy cough. Nikki quickly helped him sit up, rubbing his back soothingly until the coughing subsided. When his breathing finally returned to normal, Nikki tugged him back so that his back was resting against his chest, keeping one arm wrapped loosely around his middle while the other held the washcloth to the back of his neck.

“Go back to sleep, babe,” he whispered in his ear.

Tommy wanted to protest, but he didn’t have much say in the matter. He blinked and sleep reclaimed him.

~~~~~

The next time he wakes up, he wakes up proper.

For a split second, it feels like a regular morning. The sheets are tangled around his body, and the sun shines through their thin, shitty curtains, and fingers are gently combing through his hair.

But then, he wakes up just a little bit more and all the shittiness hits him. His throat feels raw and torn up, his body is sticky with sweat, and his eyes feel hot and achy. A weak moan escapes him, and he buries his face in what he quickly realizes is not a pillow.

His head is resting in Nikki’s lap, and the bassist frowned when he heard the drummer wake, “Hey, you okay? You feeling alright?” He pushed Tommy’s hair away from his face so he could see him more clearly.

Tommy merely grunts in response. He wants to ignore everything, but Nikki doesn’t let him. Instead, he carefully turns his face until they are looking at each other, “How long have you been sick, babe?”

There is no accusation in his words, no anger, or disappointment, or annoyance, but Tommy still finds his vision blurring with tears. He’s too tired and he feels too awful to try to hide anymore.

“About a week,” he choked out.

“Dude, why didn’t you say anything?” He’s still speaking quietly, but Nikki’s voice is sad and dismayed, “You were burning up yesterday, we almost took you to the hospital!” 

Swallowing thickly, Tommy pressed his face into Nikki’s thighs, trying to hide his face and the tears streaming down it even as his shoulders hitched traitorously. 

“‘M sorry,” his voice cracked pathetically, “I didn’t want to stress you out. I didn’t want to bother you.”

Nikki feels a flare of anger and has to clench his teeth shut, forcing himself to wait for it to pass. Because having his boyfriend pass out on him after a show was a lot more fucking stressful than Tommy just admitting he was sick in the first place would have been. When the drummer had keeled over he swore his heart had stopped, he was so freaked out. Even after they realized he was sick and managed to get him home and force some medicine down his throat the second he was half conscious Nikki felt like he could barely breathe. He’d been up all night, terrified that his fever would spike or they’d need to drag him to the hospital after all. 

But, he realizes as he exhales slowly, saying any of that would definitely not help. It would almost certainly make things _worse_. He allowed the silence to stretch, reaching out to hold one of Tommy’s clammy hands and petting his hair while he sniffled and hiccuped. 

Finally, Nikki spoke, “We’re in this together, right?” his words were soft, but firm, “That’s what you said to me. We’re a team. That means that I have _your_ back, too. I’m not gonna let you hog all the worry and caretaking in this relationship,” Tommy let out a breathy giggle, turning to look up at him with watery eyes. Nikki smiled teasingly, “You gotta share that shit. I’ll keep a fucking tally board if I have to. Bottom line is you have to let me take care of you too, and if you try to argue I will bleach your hair in your sleep, you perfect, beautiful dumbass.” 

Tommy laughed more fully, which of course made him start coughing, Nikki helping him sit up again. When it finally passed though, he was still smiling, wiping his arm across his face.

“Okay,” he conceded, his voice scratchy and weak, “I guess that’s fair.”

“You’re damn right it is,” Nikki smirked. Carefully disentangling himself, he stood from the bed, leaning down to press his lips to the top of Tommy’s head. The drummer huffed out a laugh, thinking to himself about how gross his hair must be right now, yet Nikki still kissed it without hesitation. That’s true love right there.

~~~~~

Vince dropped by his room to see him later in the day, “Yo, Tommy!” he grinned as he walked over, “Where’s your nurse?” he asked teasingly.

Tommy chuckled, “Just grabbing a couple things.” His voice was still scratchy and quiet.

Laughing, Vince sat on the edge of his bed, “Seriously though, how are you feeling?”

Groaning, Tommy rolled onto his back, stating miserably, “I’m dying.”

“ _Not on my watch!!_ ”

Both men jumped at Nikki’s determined shout, the bassist sliding into the doorway dramatically. His arms were full of water bottles, an entire jug of orange juice, various medicines, washcloths, and an unopened can of soup.

“God as my witness these fucking germs are gonna wish they’d never come near my boyfriend!” he declared with a righteous fury that had Vince bursting into giggles.

“Dude, how mad are you that you can’t physically punch Tommy’s fucking illness?”

“Fucking _livid_ ,” Nikki muttered petulantly, dropping the items he had brought onto the bed. Tommy snickered, taking one of the water bottles as Nikki sorted through which medicine he should take.

“What the fuck is with the soup?” Vince questioned.

Nikki shot him a look of disbelief, “It’s chicken noodle. That’s like, the thing you give sick people, right?”

“No, no, it is. It’s just, usually you actually take it out of the can first. Maybe heat it up if you’re feeling fancy,” Vince explained sarcastically.

“I know that!”

“Are you sure? Cause you didn’t look sure.”

“Alright, you know what asshole-”

Shifting a bit to get more comfortable, Tommy couldn’t help but smile as he watched his bandmates bicker. He still felt like shit. But that was okay.

Nikki would take care of him.

**Author's Note:**

> hit me up on tumblr @motherfucker-oftheyear


End file.
